


Valenwind: Coming to Terms

by Beruthiels Cat (Vinvalen)



Category: FFVII, FFVII compilation
Genre: M/M, Valenwind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 03:18:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinvalen/pseuds/Beruthiels%20Cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cid and Chaos each have their own ideas about Vincent and the sharing of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valenwind: Coming to Terms

Cid's secret hobby was people watching. He studied them not only for their actions, or at times, inaction, but also for what they said when they talked to themselves…something the members of his team seemed to do on a fairly regular basis. Scolding, second-guessing, sometimes just to put thoughts in an audible framework, as if doing so would make the bizarre situations they found themselves in somehow seem more palatable; less utterly insane. But even more than this, the pilot learned about them from what was _not_ said; those silences which became the most telling of all. 

And so Cid discreetly watched Vincent Valentine in the early days following the gunman's arrival among them. He told himself it was for the protection of the other members of their team; Vincent was an unknown quantity, and therefore, unreliable, unpredictable. Anything Shinra had touched, with permission or without, deserved close scrutiny and a certain measure of self-preserving mistrust.

Vincent-watching eventually developed into as much of a habit as reaching for his next cigarette, something the pilot did without conscious thought. It was simply the way things were. As the months went by and nothing happened to either confirm or allay the pilot's suspicions, it became more difficult to justify his continued vigilance.

And time passed.

So what if he'd gradually moved from the position of observer to actively watching Vincent's back? Hells, the gunman had watched Cid's on plenty of occasions…probably even saved his sorry hide a couple of times. It just stood to reason Cid should return the favor, he told himself.

Such thoughts were a comfort in the darkened, silent watches of the night; staring out the big windows of his bridge through narrowed eyes and a curl of smoke. Times when he could have sworn there were eyes upon his back, yet when he turned, of course there had been no one there…yet he felt the fine hair on the back of his neck rise, and found himself suppressing an involuntary shiver.

 

And time passed.

 

Mutual defense evolved further into the role of Cid as unofficial caretaker. More than any other, he kept a close eye upon Vincent during the times of weakness and exhaustion that overtook the gunman when he transformed back from his incarnations, especially as Chaos. To the pilot's observation, each time it happened, Vincent seemed to take longer to recover.

Far be it for the pilot to admit that he worried, but what if the gunman happened to be debilitated and they encountered Sephiroth unexpectedly? As far as it concerned himself, Cloud and the others, they could possibly hold their own; but Vincent would be essentially defenseless in such a scenario. Sitting in the darkness of the gunman's cabin beside Vincent's sleeping form, Cid thought about what life must be like for him. Not that Vincent ever complained about it, because he really didn't ever say much of anything at all.

But this same careful observation drew attention to occasions when Cid suspected Chaos was being deliberately brutal to his host; almost as if the demon made its transition back into Vincent's form as painful and lengthy as possible. Witnessing this obviously torturous process only once was more than enough for the pilot. When it showed signs of happening again, Cid was waiting.

"Give him back, Chaos," the pilot stated with obstinate authority, as if he had no concept of being disobeyed. _"Now."_

Chaos snarled, rising to loom over the pilot. Cid faced him squarely; his uncompromising stare locked with the demon's in a battle of wills. There was strained silence as the others held a collective breath, afraid to move lest they tip the balance and provoke Chaos into slaughtering Cid where he stood.

And then the demon threw back his head and laughed. In a whirl of scarlet and black otherness, he withdrew, leaving Vincent to collapse at Cid's feet. The pilot was quicker. Tossing the Venus Gospel aside as if it were of no consequence, he caught Vincent in his arms before the gunman could hit the ground.

An expression of wordless pain passed fleetingly over the pilot's features before he abruptly turned and carried the gunman to a patch of shade and laid him down upon soft grass. Something in the pilot's manner warned the others not to approach as he sat there in stillness, waiting for Vincent to recover. Quietly, the rest of the team made their way to the airship, leaving Cloud stationed as guard, facing away, allowing them privacy.

As darkness fell, Vincent recovered himself, yet no word was spoken between the two of what had transpired. Cid wasn't sure Vincent would have any awareness of what took place when Chaos was in control, but he wasn't going to ask any unwelcome questions. He merely stood up from the position he had maintained for the last few hours, offered the gunman a hand up from the ground and a shoulder to lean on as Vincent staggered upon weary and stiffened limbs.

And time passed.

Cid maintained his watch and after much deliberation, developed a theory; namely that Chaos was jealous of Vincent's companions. It actually made a bizarre kind of sense to the pilot. After all, Chaos hadn't had to share Vincent with anyone (if you didn't count the gunman's rarely-voiced memories of that Crescent woman) for the better part of thirty years.

~c~v~c~v~c~

 

It had been a bad battle; an ambush by monsters of such size and numbers that the team was hard pressed to defeat them, even calling upon their almost uncanny sense of teamwork.

Chaos waited, biding his time until Vincent was exhausted. Then he forced a transformation, followed by behavior designed to portray Vincent as little more than a monster himself.

But Cid refused to be baited. Chaos grinned at him from across a carcass; made a show of licking across his prominent, dagger sharp teeth before folding his wings and striking his fangs into the large neck vein of his still-warm prey. Then he began 'feasting' with messy demonic abandon, complete with exaggerated sound effects. All the while, the glowing golden eyes remained fastened upon Cid, daring him to object.

Tifa whirled and ran, a hand clamped over her mouth. Aeris merely shook her head in disappointment, but it was obviously not Vincent who merited her disapproval. Yuffie dived for the nearest bushes and the rest could hear her emptying her stomach violently. Even Barret turned away, though with slow deliberation. Cloud merely narrowed his eyes and refused to give ground.

Cid gritted his teeth hard enough to make his jaws ache. He well knew what effect Chaos' actions would have upon Vincent's state of mind. The gunman could not be persuaded that the others saw him as anything other than a freak and Chaos seemed determined to prove this assumption correct.

But Chaos had never encountered anyone quite like Cid before. Rather than reacting to Chaos' taunt, the pilot sat down at the base of a nearby tree, deliberately ignoring the demon. He lit a cigarette, fished in his pocket for the Venus' whetstone and set about restoring its razor edge. For all he apparently cared, Chaos may as well have been on another continent.

It wasn't long before Chaos tired of his game, but snickered in satisfaction before abruptly withdrawing, allowing the gunman to reemerge. When he did, Vincent immediately rolled to face away from his companions, curling into himself in an attempt to hide his misery and shame.

But Cid had indeed been watching, and very carefully. When he saw the swirl of red and black marking Vincent's metamorphosis, he was instantly on his feet, even as Cloud moved to guard them both. Cid scooped Vincent into his arms, ignoring his feeble protests. Instead, he shifted the gunman's weight forward to give space for the inevitable, gathering the dark hair out of his face. No sooner than he had done so, all the blood Chaos had swallowed came back up in a rush, leaving Vincent heaving and trembling in Cid's embrace.

 _"Chaos, yer a right son of a bitch,"_ Cid muttered, knowing the demon heard. _"Even Galian has more class than you,"_ he added for good measure.

Vincent's response was something between a chuckle and a sob as he quieted at last, still clinging to Cid's arm with his human hand. Cid brought out the clean, soft cloth with which he'd pretended polishing the Gospel, using it to tenderly wipe the gunman's face.  
"Let's get ya to bed, Vince, ya need the rest." For once, Vincent didn't object. If Cid just happened to brush his lips against the gunman's pale temple, he could always claim it was an accident.

 

And time passed.

 

When the other members of their team were away from the airship during downtimes, Vincent began deliberately seeking the pilot's company. Often, they would have a meal or a drink together, converse about recent events or plans, but mostly, the time passed in companionable silence. And Cid, as always, watched.

He observed Vincent as he sat unmoving, sometimes for hours at a stretch, seemingly staring into a vague middle distance. The gunman's eyes would change color seemingly at random; shifting from their usual ruby jeweled tones to a fiery gold and back again. And so he began to understand that this phenomenon was Vincent having an internal dialog with the strongest of his demons. Privately, he hoped it was simple conversation between the two; rather than an unspoken battle of wills.

And time passed.

Cid felt himself being watched. It usually occurred late of an evening after Vincent had dozed off, curled into a chair opposite Cid's. An abandoned book would remain open in his lap, held loosely in the clawed left hand. Cid would glance up; a subliminal sixth sense prickling at him, to find himself fixed in an unblinking golden stare.

Rather than imply submission by turning back to his own reading, Cid stared in turn; unwilling to be intimidated. In the days following, a contest of sorts developed between them. It was as if the pilot and the demon each waited to see who would break the silence first.

"Your endless scrutiny becomes tedious." Chaos said a week or so later.

"I like ta stay in practice," the pilot responded levelly.

Chaos/Vincent cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. "You are not afraid of me."

"No. I ain't." The pilot's clear blue gaze gave no quarter, nor did it ask any in return.

"This one finds you worthy," the demon replied, switching tactics.

"His name is _Vincent;_ not 'this one'," Cid corrected the demon implacably. "And I am honored by his trust."

A feral smile answered him. "Then we understand one another, consort. I shall watch from within; as you guard from without. Together, we shall keep him."

Cid responded with a single, barely perceptible nod. "Agreed."

The golden-hued eyes drifted closed as Vincent's body once more relaxed into slumber. Cid rose from his place, quietly draped a blanket over the sleeping form and laid the gunman's abandoned book aside. He kissed Vincent's beloved brow gently as he tucked the edges of the blanket in securely; then lowered the lights before returning to his self-appointed post.


End file.
